


Worth The Risk, Not The Loss

by TaraInNotRed



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Just a fair warning., Little angsty., M/M, Not to bad though., There is a happy(ish) ending I promise.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 10:36:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4218480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaraInNotRed/pseuds/TaraInNotRed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, in war, sacrifices have to be made and you lose people. But just this once, what could have been lost was worth the risk to save.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worth The Risk, Not The Loss

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [Toadflame](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toadflame/pseuds/Toadflame) in the [RvB_Fic_War](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/RvB_Fic_War) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
>  
> 
> While gathering Intel on the other team, one of your teammates has gone missing. They were carrying vital information that could be the very thing to end the war!
> 
> But it's too dangerous to go get them. Your mission is to figure out how to tell Command they're gone and never coming back. 
> 
> **Prompt:** Someone had gone missing and must be rescued by any means necessary.

Sometimes, in war, sacrifices have to be made and you lose people. Carolina understood that. She didn’t necessarily like it, but she understood it. She knew that sometimes sacrifices had to be made for the greater good of the team, the mission, the war. As a team leader those decisions were never easy to make. Who got left behind? How much were you letting your personal feeling cloud your judgment? How would this decision affect the rest of the team?

This time though, the decision was made for her. When the resistance caught up to him, there was no way the rookie could have fought them all. He was a lost cause at this point, she just had to hope and pray he could hold up to their ‘interrogation’ over the information he had found. It wouldn’t be easy, rough interrogations could be hard to endure even for experienced soldiers. But for some reason, something in the back of her mind was telling her that he’d do fine, that things would work out.

Why did it have to be Washington though? Sure the kid was new, but in the few short months he’d been with the team he’d really grown on everyone. Even South had started to act less hostile. He might not have been the best soldier, but he was still one of them. As 479’er flew them back to the Mother Of Invention everything was quiet, no one said a word unless prompted to by Carolina.

Maine was the worst out of them though. He was normally a very quiet person, but he would always respond politely in some way when ask a question. Now though, he wasn’t even acknowledging that he was being addressed. It was probably for the best though, you could practically see the anger and hostility rolling off him in waves. Of the team or freelancers, Maine had been the last person Carolina expected to take this loss so rough. She had though perhaps North, with his protective fatherly attitude, would be the one most upset, but he simply sat in the corner in the same saddened silence as the rest of the team.

Carolina didn’t look forward to telling the Director that the team had not only failed the mission, but had to leave behind a member. The same member that had the information that they had gone out to retrieve in the first place. One of two things would happen Carolina thought. Either the Director would declare the information not worth the risk and call it and Agent Washington a loss, or they would be ordered to find Wash and kill him before he could talk. Neither of these options left the Rookie in a good position.

When Maine stalked off after the Pelican landed, it was no real surprise to anyone. His body language screamed get out of my way and don’t talk to me. Lowered head, tense shoulders, hyper straight back, it would take a totally idiot to not see the signs. If Wash we’re here, he would probably ignore those signs and try to break the large man out of his funk. That’s the kind of man Washington is, or was at least. Carolina thought about following his example, but decided she wasn’t good enough with words and comforting to make any effort she would make worthwhile.

She instead decided to let the white armored freelancer sulk off to deal with his own emotions how ever he saw fit. She dismissed the rest of the team, deciding that it was best if she debriefed the Director by herself. She didn’t really think Souths bitchy attitude, or York's sarcastic comments would be helpful this time around. She made her way to the Director's office, and knocked on the door. She was met with her father's strong drawl telling her to come in. The automatic doors opened and she took of her helmet.

“Director,” she addressed the man, the Counselor standing by his side, as always. He sits as his desk giving her, for a change, his full attention.

“Agent Carolina,” The Director responded with a nod, “How did your information gathering assignment go?”

“There were….Complications,” Carolina began cautiously before going on to explain how Washington was the one to find the information, but got cornered and had to be left behind.

“What do you want to do about the situation Director?” Carolina asked like the dutiful soldier she was. She didn’t have time for personal emotions in situations like this, what ever happened she would do her grieving latter. The Director stood and began pacing slowly behind his desk, the Counselor stepping back as he and Carolina both watched him cautiously, trying to gauge his reactions. 

“Agent Washington, although being newer to Project Freelancer, is still a competent and loyal agent,” The Director began, “I have every confidence that he will die before he divulges what information your team was there to gather, or any of Project Freelancers secrets.” Carolina breathed a quiet sigh of relief, knowing that having to go and take out Wash wasn’t going to go over well with any one.

“However,” The Director stopped abruptly and turned to face Carolina with a stern look about him, “I am extremely disappointed in you, your team, and the execution of this operation. I had expected more from the top agents in the project. Perhaps I put too much faith in you.”

Carolina squared her shoulders and tightened her jaw, biting her tongue to keep from lashing out at her father's cold demeanor. “It won't happen again sir,” she bit out through silently grinding teeth.

“Make sure as it doesn’t Agent Carolina,” The Director said, sitting down once again and dismissing her.

She nodded her head curtly, turned on her heels, and headed to the locker room. The whole team was there, even Maine who she had thought would be punching dents in the ship's hull somewhere. They were waiting for her, it was clear, waiting to know the fate of the teammate they had left behind.

“Are we going back for him?” North asked, his blue eyes looking hopeful.

“Are we going back to kill him?” South asked, the bitterness clear in her voice. It baffled Carolina how the two twins could be so vastly different from each other.

“No, to both,” Carolina said with a sigh as she stashed her helmet in her locker, “The Director has declared Agent Washington a loss.”

“We’re not even going to try and get the kid back?” York asked her, the concern for the lost agent evident in his voice.

Carolina couldn’t look him in the eyes, couldn’t face the sadness, anger, and disappointment that she knew was on there faces. She finally forced herself to whisper out a quiet, “No.”

The room became almost suffocating with silence. Everyone seemed to suddenly find the ground fascinating. No one looked up when Maine left the room, foot steps a little louder than they normally were. No one said a word when the sound of bending metal could be heard from just beyond the door. They all new loss was a part of war, but that didn’t mean they had to like it.

~~~~Super Creative Pagebreak~~~~

Maine didn’t know if he was angry or heart broken, or if it was both, or which he would rather be. Anger could be fixed with a little training. Find some new recruit dumb enough to agree to spar with him that he could beat on a little to take out his aggression.

That had been how Wash and him had gotten so close in the first place. He had been dumb enough not only to agree to spar with him not once, but twice. Even after that, no matter how hard he went on the kid he kept coming back. He would talk through the sparing, voice hardly showing any signs of fatigue. He never tried to force Main to participate in the conversation, he liked that about Washington.

Maine eventually decided that he would much rather be anger, but that he was far more heart broken. He wasn’t used to this feeling, didn’t like it in the slightest. He had never really gotten as close to anybody as he had with Washington in the past few months. He wasn’t used to the feelings he had been having for Wash, was only just figuring out what to do with them. Then suddenly those feelings and the person they were for were all torn away from him.

Maine made his way to the training room, hopping that beating on something would help with heartbreak as well as it did for anger. He started up the kinetic hologram simulator, and began hitting it relentlessly. After a while he decided that it helped a little, but the sim wasn’t as satisfying to knock around as something more solid, like a person.

Eventually he gave up, the physical labor coupled with his emotional turmoil had made him exhausted. Main decided it was best for him to go back to his quarters, and maybe try to get some rest. He found though, that when he layed down and closed his eyes, all he could see was Wash. His smile, his blond hair, and freckled skin. He couldn’t push his voice, his laugh, out of his head. Normally this wouldn’t be a bad thing, but with these thoughts came the thoughts of what was happening to Wash right now. What was the resistance doing to him, what kind of torment were they putting him through to try and get him to talk.

It was too much, sleep was a lost cause for Maine. According to the Director and Carolina, there was no hope for the man he had slowly been falling in love with, and that tore Maine up inside. He didn’t know what to do, how to deal with these emotions, how he was supposed to just accept this loss as another casualty of war and move on.

He wasn’t, he couldn’t. The Director be damned, the project be damned. Wash had some how managed to worm his way into his heart, and he would be assed if he was just going to leave him behind without even trying to save him.

It was late, nearing 2 A.M. almost. The ship was down to a skeleton crew, just enough to keep it working. That meant that the armory, and more importantly, the flight deck would be barren. Maine got out of his bunk, making up his mind and headed for the locker room to put his armor back on. After getting his gun he made his way to the flight deck, he got into a pelican and turned it on.

Of all the consequences he was going to face for what he was about to do, Maine was pretty sure he was most afraid of what 479er was going to do to him for stealing one of her ships. Hopefully she’d understand and at least spare him his life, he thought absently, as he punched and override code into the ship's computer, that opened the hangar doors for him. Before anyone could stop him, he was outside the ship and on his way to rescue Washington.

It took Maine longer then he would have liked to find the resistances latest hideout. Once he was there though, he couldn’t be stopped. He was like a force of nature, his rage and need to find Wash fueling him to push on through the opposition like some sort of one man army. Maine lost track of how many people he had fought off, but it didn’t matter, all that mattered was finding Wash. God help these people if he found him dead.

When he did find was, he was in a holding cell, leaning heavily against the far wall. The white armored freelancer muscled his way through the door into the room, leaning down beside Wash. He was a little worse for wear, but alive and none of his injuries were irreversible.

“Washington,” Maine said questioningly to the other as softly as his deep gravely voice would allow.

“Maine?” Wash answered hoarsely, turning his head towards the larger man, sounding slightly confused. “You guys came back for me?” he asked, almost cautiously.

“No,” Main began, seeing Washington's shoulders tense slightly for a moment, perhaps assuming that he was here to kill him, “Just me.”

“Thank you,” Wash whispered out quietly, the relief in his voice clear despite it’s near inaudible-ness.

Maine helped Wash stand, but he stumbled when he tried to start walking. Deciding that they didn’t have time to try and limp their way back to the Pelican, Maine placed one arm around Washes shoulders and the other under his legs. He easily picked the gray armored man up off the ground, and made his way quickly back to the pelican.

Either the resistance had gotten smart, or ran out of men Maine thought as they reached the ship without encountering any opposition. What ever it was, Maine was thankful, he didn’t know if he would have been able to fight with Wash in his arms, and he sure as hell wasn’t letting him go until he was sure he would be safe.

Maine placed Wash gently into one of the seats in the back and strapped him in, before going back to the cockpit and taking off. Once they were far enough away from the resistance hideout that he didn’t have to worry about being attacked, Maine put the ship into auto pilot and went to check on Wash.

“You hurt?” He asked, coming to kneel next to the obviously injured man, not sure what he should be doing, just knowing he wanted to be near Wash right now.

“A little, but nothing that won't heal,” Wash said in a surprisingly light hearted tone.

Maine nodded, glad that Wash would be fine, and was even starting to sound like his old self. He got up off the ground and sat in the seat beside Washington, not strapping in in case he needed to get back to the cockpit quickly.

“Thank you,” Wash whispered again but this time he elaborated, “I….I really didn’t think they would send anyone for me.”

“They didn’t,” Maine told him truthfully, “Came myself.”

Wash looked at the man beside him, the shock and hurt and gratitude clear despite the tinted visor obscuring Maine's view of the others face.

“Well then…..Thank you for saving me,” Wash said, placing a hand on Maine's knee, squeezing it as tightly as he could with a sore arm. The gesture was not lost on Maine, and he was for once glad that it was nearly impossible to see someone's face through their helmet visors because it hid the blush that was creeping up his face.

“Glad you’re safe,” Maine said, placing his hand atop Wash’s, returning the light squeeze.

It was worth it, Maine decided, it was worth the lashing he was going to receive from the Director, Carolina, and worst from 479er. But he had Wash back by his side, and all that he had risked was well worth it to Maine if it meant keeping him there, even just a little while longer.

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a few months since I've gotten to do any writing, so I'm really glad to be getting back into it. I hope I haven't gotten to rusty.
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading! Leave a comment if you like, I'd love to hear from you.
> 
> (Also this is my first time posting anything on AO3, so I'm not entirely sure how tagging works. If I missed anything I should have tagged, just let me know and I can fix it.)


End file.
